Ivan Chernenkov: My Love Story
by Cozumi
Summary: This is written for my friend, Taylor, as part of our art/fic trade. The story is written from Ivan's point of view. Enjoy! :D


Ivan Chernenkov

**Love Story**

* * *

><p>My life as a Prince was bereft of colours. I was brought up under a strict upbringing and in a cold country of seemingly eternal winter, no less.<p>

My only motivation and dream was the unity of my precious Kingdom, Sanct Sybil. That was my only goal in life.

My world was colourless and dull.

Until you came.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Duty<em>**

It is perhaps, only one of the many major duties as required of a prince to beget an heir to their Kingdoms, in order to ensure the continuity of our Royal bloodlines.

However, as unbecoming of me, the next King of Sanct Sybil, to speak of this rather insolently, I must say that it was truly unnecessary and cumbersome to participate in these many meaningless parties that were excessively luxurious.

I could, to a certain extent, understand the reason for the Prince of Oriens' desire to escape the restricted life of a royalty and to rescind his rights to the throne.

But, of course, I am definitely not as weak willed as Prince Kuon had portrayed himself to be. In order to warrant and secure the place of my young Kingdom in the alliance, I am willing to do anything.

It is my duty.

The participation of the Royal event, the bouquet toss, was what would have eventually led me to meet her, my one and only true love.

_Taylor._

* * *

><p>"How ridiculous." I was commenting to Mikhail in exasperation, as he had just informed me of an upcoming party, the purpose of which was to be seeking a bride for all of us, the six princes.<p>

There would be many resplendent women of nobility invited from all across the continents to be the candidates. Then and there, each of us would have to toss a bouquet of flowers to the woman of our choice.

Mikhail then looked at me nervously, as I had enunciated my words once more in repetition. "Utterly ridiculous."

I couldn't believe it, as the details of the event were conveyed to me, how could I simply just choose a stranger who would become the next Queen of Sanct Sybil by _throwing a_ _bouquet to her._

First of all, it is deemed rude and ill-mannered to do something this crude, throwing an object into a throng of young women, even if the ladies wouldn't have minded it. Secondly, how could I simply marry a woman who was a complete stranger without having an idea of her background? Although I would daresay that I wouldn't have minded a bit if she would be capable of withstanding the harsh climate of my country. Thirdly, how could the other princes ever consent to such a presumptuous idea at all?

Wait, Oliver would, definitely, the eccentric outlier of our group, the Altarian Prince.

"Prince Ivan, there will be a marriage interview afterwards. It isn't obligatory for you to marry the woman immediately." Then Mikhail shuffled his feet gawkily, unable to look at me in the eyes. "…Furthermore, Your Highness should consider settling down soon. Since Your Highness doesn't have a lover either way..."

"…Pardon me?" I raised my eyebrows indignantly as his sentence trailed off softly.

"Please excuse me." Mikhail took a quick bow and left, looking slightly abashed as he hurried out of the room timorously.

"…" I stared at my butler's retreating back menacingly. However, it wasn't as if Mikhail was wrong, perhaps it was indeed time for me to find a wife, for the future of Sanct Sybil.

My sisters had always chided me when they come home for a visit, worrying meaningless for me. _'Ivan, you should smile more! How will you ever find a wife with such a sullen expression?' _

Anastasia would then add on, rather obnoxiously I might say, _'Our name, the Chernenkov will die off eventually in Ivan's hands!'_

Thoughts and memories ran wild in my mind, as I patted Snieg and Yuri's heads distractedly. I had thought of finding a woman before, but unfortunately, my previous candidates weren't up to my standard and had left me feeling disappointed and slightly despondent.

No, I should stay firm to my own principles. "The Kingdom is my priority, to ensure the prosperity and the stabilization of Sanct Sybil is more important than these trivial things called love."

However, I guess I ought to go along with this, the royal marriage event then, if all of the other princes were to participate as well. It would be unseemly for my Kingdom if I was to object to this alone.

I would take extra caution to conduct a full health check-up on the woman of my choosing, regardless if there would be any mutual love, an heir would be the more important factor.

_Little did I know that I would have fallen irrevocably in love with this one woman._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Interest<em>**

"So who do you think will be here today?" Oliver asked all of the princes gaily. "For me… I would love to be engaged to a ravishing model!"

We were all seated in a lounge, sipping tea and casually conversing in trifling affairs before the main event start. The atmosphere was heavy and tense, but Oliver hadn't seemed to be perturbed by our moods.

"Who knows?" Kuon stared out of the window disinterestedly, fiddling with the spoon in his hand before it fell to the table with a loud clank. Meanwhile, Sieg gave a small smile of his own, and then returning his gaze to the book in his hand.

"Well, well! What do you think then, Ivan?" Oliver chirped, directing his question at me this time, after receiving cold responses from the rest, his usual blithe plastered on his face.

I frowned, replying rationally as I thought my feelings to be, "If a marriage will benefit my country, it doesn't really matter who I will marry."

Henry sighed solemnly, his brows furrowing as he thought deeply of my words, "That is one good way to put it." Aslan, who was seated beside him, nodded silently in agreement.

It had seemed that not all of the princes were as enthusiastic as I thought that they would be.

But more importantly, I was still distracted from the sight of a woman from the parade before. Her evidently puzzled and then joyous expressions had still lingered in my mind.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Beauty<em>**

Her surprised gaze was what had caught my eye.

_Did she really think that I am as emotionless as the press had claimed me to be? Surely, I am not as uptight as all of the rumours had described me._ I couldn't help but laughed to myself inwardly as I paved my way towards to the young, jovial child who had been jostling for my signature and calling my name with such enthusiasm.

The woman from beside the young boy had looked astonished as I was approaching them from afar, and then her face changed to that of delight as I spoke to the young boy. She had given me a genuine smile of appreciation, seemingly to be touched by my simple gesture towards the child.

Then I had seen her again, in the castle of Nobel Michel.

She was covered in speckles of white dust which I had deduced to be flour from her pastry chef outfit. Despite her unkempt appearance, she had seemed to be determined to get her job done in the palace, whatever that was her work.

There was also this unusual yet innocent spark of awe in her eyes as I watched her bright, naïve gaze while she was looking around, admiring the magnificent view of the castle.

Then, I had caught sight of her, once more. She was in the hall as well, trying to scramble away from the crowd of screaming ladies, who were harrowing for our bouquets in contrast, her plebian self very distinctive from the exquisite dresses of the rest.

She had most definitely captured my attention and piqued my interest.

That was the beginning of everything, when I had aimed the bouquet of roses at her on purpose. The bouquet had landed squarely onto her head rather brusquely and she had turned to look at us in pure astonishment.

The petals of the bouquet, coming loose from the stalks, had danced around her gracefully, the bouquet then lying on the ground in abandonment. That was when a bizarre thought came across my mind.

She was beautiful.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Soft<em>**

"What is your name?" I asked, staring at her now. The two of us had finally met face to face, sitting across a table full of pastries from her store, formally introducing ourselves to each other.

The pastry chef woman was now tastefully dressed in a sequined blue dress, her hair tied into a small bun with a few loose strands framing her sharp cheekbones. Her bright eyes were darting around nervously as she pursed her small full lips, unsure of how to address me.

She was ravishing, her outfit accentuating the curves of her body that the chef uniform hadn't complimented her on. Then she stared at me with those beguiling eyes of hers.

"…Taylor, Your Highness." She had answered meekly back then. Her voice was alarmingly gentle and melodious.

A small smile flitted to my face, a first in the few busy months that I had finally found something worthy to smile of.

"I see."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Understanding<em>**

Our thoughts and ideals clashed.

She refused to believe in a marriage without love.

I then answered her simply, giving her a suggestion to find another man who would be capable of giving her the love that she deserved, while being married to me in name. It was an excellent proposal, we would be able to get what we want. She would be able to be with her man while being married into money and I, wouldn't have to worry about finding a suitable Queen anymore and to be able to concentrate fully on my duties. It was benefitting for the two of us.

However, she was furious, absolutely irate at my words. The usually placid expression of hers was being replaced by a look of hurt and resentment.

I didn't understand woman, then, and I couldn't possibly fathom what she was getting angry about. Eventually, I did, after finally experiencing what was known as love, and I could only imagine in regret the pain I had caused her back when I had spoken lightly of such feelings then.

And now, I can't even imagine a day without my precious Taylor by my side.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Affection<em>**

Those letters were the first of our bond, the deepening and the reconciliation of our initial hostile relationship.

Days were passed in stalemate and the fear of losing our lives at any time had gripped us incessantly. Her letters were a solace to the dangerous condition I was in and I had begun to look forward to that small and petite handwriting of hers.

Her words brought a smile to my face in times of turmoil, her letters were my comfort, my sanctuary and I had wanted to see her so much. Such simple words had become what I had been looking forward to everyday, the solace in which I had found myself calming in when I would take a bite of her pastries.

She had been constantly reminding me to have my meals regularly, to not over exert myself, and to hope for our return soon. It was a first, to have someone fret over me consistently and to have somebody there at home, waiting for my arrival.

I was overjoyed.

When the Dres Vanese Prince, Sieg had come to visit me, he had brought Taylor along too. Although it was perilous for a woman to enter a soldier camp, words couldn't describe how secretly glad I was when Sieg had brought her brazenly to the battlefield to meet me. Even Sieg had understood tacitly, that Taylor's appearance was an immense encouragement to me.

It was that time when our gazes had met, in the camp amidst of chaos, when I had felt something churning deep in my pits. The way Taylor's eyes had radiantly lit up when she saw me, and when her cheeks flushed from the frost, and the way she smiled at me- it was as if I was the only one that had mattered to her in the world. That was perhaps, the feeling of being loved.

I had wanted to hold her, then and there. And I was beginning to feel something dormant and incandescent awakening inside of me.

Was this called love?

* * *

><p><strong><em>Worry<em>**

My heart was gripped with fear and my usually composed demeanor was thrown off balance when Taylor was being captured by the enemies that were targeting me. I was fraught with worry and the thought of losing her was distressing me.

It was heartrending to finally have somebody I would appreciate and come to love above everything else in the world to be taken ruthlessly away from me.

But, I know. I wouldn't just let go simply.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Together<em>**

Finally, we are together, our paths are clear and they are intertwined, our love confirmed and aligned at last.

This is also the first time I have look forward with anticipation to the arrival of each day because it is another precious day that I can spend with my beloved princess.

A day that is simply satisfying just by watching her, her every single action bringing quiet joy to me. The silent determination that she has when she makes pastries and prepares the meals, the dignified and proud expression she will wear when I praise her food.

The way she will pout when I cover her in snow, and the way she will smile vivaciously when she catches me off-guard with her blithe attacks. The way I will sneakily weave those beautiful, silky long auburn locks of hers when she sleeps peacefully on the sofa, while waiting for me to complete my work.

How tantalizing and mirthful it is to be, I who was once so arrogant and haughty, who was unsympathetic and unfeeling, to fall to my knees, albeit willing, before the presence of this one woman, Taylor.

The only person in the world who has accepted my haughtiness and my stubbornness, and the only who has called me sweet and caring.

Taylor, the only person I will have to be my Queen of Sanct Sybil.

My Princess.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Life<em>**

"So, you batter the eggs, in this way," Taylor says, as she demonstrates it to me, her hands skillfully whipping the eggs as I struggle to mimic her actions. It has appalled me, that someone with such small and fragile-looking hands, is able to create such wonderful and delicious pastries.

When I have instructed Mikhail to set aside time for me to spend with Taylor, Mikhail was surprised by my order, which the astonishment mainly stems from the idea of me baking together with Taylor.

"Prince Ivan…?" Mikhail stuttered uncertainly, his question ending with incoherent babbling on how Sanct Sybil will be having an eternal summer soon.

I shot him a threatening glare, effectively silencing his inquisitive stares. "Do you have a problem with me stepping into the kitchen?"

"…No, no at all." Mikhail answered hoarsely as he nodded his head, albeit too fervently, taking note of the list of ingredients to be required for our baking session from a rather amused Taylor. As Mikhail was leaving us to be, he had been muttering something about contacting my sisters to speak of this _unnatural occurrence._

Perhaps I have indeed changed, but for once, I don't think that such changes are unwelcomed. "How am I doing now…?" I ask Taylor, as I try to whip the eggs with as much gentleness as I can, the yolks still splattering onto my fingers in protest against my force.

"No!" Taylor objects, catching ahold of my hand, as she shakes her head in disapproval. "Gentle, Prince Ivan, gentle."

A simple touch from her is enough to send me swirling into the pits of desire. Truthfully, I don't really have a passion or interest in this cooking lesson, to begin with, and now she is distracting me even more.

I then put down the bowl hastily and turn towards Taylor, giving her a winsome smile as I edge closer to her face, "How about you …?"

Before I can even finish my sentence, she swats me away hurriedly, her face gradually reddening as she argues with hesitation, "We are cooking! Please…"

I sigh in defeat, and although I have found our activity to be uninteresting, but to have to be able to spend time with Taylor and to be doing what she loves, I am pretty much satisfied.

"How about you sit over there and watch me bake instead?" Taylor proposes, noticing that I have given up on making my portion of the pastry.

I agree at once, and after a quick comparison, I have decided that watching Taylor work is much more fascinating. She is full of fortitude as she gets to work properly and efficiently, and her face is scrunched adorably in concentration as she stares at the ingredients on hand, and at the mess I had made.

_I love her._

I hadn't even noticed what face I was making when Taylor turns to me with a strange look, "Are you alright, Prince Ivan?"

"..Yeah, I am."

_Infatuation._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Joy<em>**

It is my day off, and I have brought along Sneig and Yuri out for a walk in the woods with Taylor and me. The wolves have trudged off immediately, playing among themselves.

As I watch my two beloved pets head off to the woods, something icy hit me squarely on my head. I turn around to see a rather excited Taylor grinning mischievously at me, her hands molding another snowball as she prepares for her next round of attack.

"Why… you!" I huffed, bending down to scoop some ice in retaliation.

Taylor giggles as she runs over with gumption, smearing ice onto my face cheekily once I look up at her approaching figure.

"This is for the bouquet toss!" She laughs, her voice crisp and sweet in the cool winter breeze.

I run towards her but she is surprisingly nimble and quick for her small stature and I ended up having to put in all of my effort into catching her.

"You can't run away now!" I grasped her wrists tightly, a triumphant smile spreading across my face.

"And now…" I titled her chin up towards me as I grinned at the intensifying rosy blush of hers. "My turn!"

I kiss her deeply on her lips, cutting off her protests as I embrace her tightly, conveying my unwavering love to her, unable to let her go and simply wanting to make her mine.

This is Joy.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mine<em>**

Taylor has taught me how to love and the heart that I had once thought to be incapable to love had started to beat again.

Her affection, her gentleness and her love has thawed the ice in me.

She has alleviated my pain and she gives me a reason to live, colouring my once nondescript life into an exhilarating, rose shaded world.

She has brought light and warmth into my eternal and brutally cold winter.

She is the Sun of my once cold existence, the light of my life.

And this is my **Love Story.**

**_The Love Story of the next King and Queen of Sanct Sybil._**


End file.
